I want to pay tribute to wonderful people I have known, the wonderful country in which I live, the communities in which I have lived, the churches who have claimed me as their own, the God who sends shivers down my back when I really give him a portion of my time—well, maybe not shivers but tears flow easily in some of those most priceless times.
oneta hayes on THOUGHTS WHILE PUTTING AWAY FA… pranabaxom on THOUGHTS WHILE PUTTING AWAY FA… oneta hayes on THOUGHTS WHILE PUTTING AWAY FA… pranabaxom on THOUGHTS WHILE PUTTING AWAY FA… oneta hayes on AND, LORD, WOULD YOU JUST…
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Of course, I’m in jest with the prayer below, but I have told you before that I sometimes even tell jokes to God. We have fun together! Same is true for the picture. I told my kids I needed a picture of me pretending to pray, so it was staged. We were eating at a Mexican restaurant. God is part of my family and I am ever so grateful.
My hope for you is that you know Him in that way. He loves you. He wants to be your Friend; albeit, He wants priority time from you and He wants it given with a thankful heart.
Lord, I’m so thankful for:
Food, friends, family and fun
Sunshine, showers, strawberries and sons;
Peanut butter, pie, pencils and pets;
Jelly, jump ropes, juggling, and jets;
Marriage, memories, money, mustard;
Canes, candy, computers, and custard;
Telephones, tigers, teapots and toast;
Romps, rings, rainbows and roast.
And, Lord, while looking at this a second time,
I see I’ve named food on every line.
Could you manage to make every calorie…….
Small? Like in cucumber, lettuce, and celery.
John 10:10 The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.
I’m so busy
At my family business,
That I’m missing
At my blogging business.
I know you’re busy
On your special business.
But don’t get too busy
To heed the “THANKSGIVING” business!
I’m thinking of the hubbub as critics have yelled about paying attention to the science in regard to the methods of President Trump during the Covid crises. Hummm…..
During the nine decades in which I have lived, I have seen changes in science. Most recent I recall that science has determined a change in the number of planets. I suppose the field of medicine is the one in which most science has changed. Mostly positive. Also technology.
Some “science” is disturbing to me. Case in point, the scientific frustration regarding gender. Now how many genders are there? Is a boy and a girl different? Or does it take a few years to find out?
There are things about science that have not changed. Gravity comes readily to mind. In fact as I think of it, the things about science that are based on mathematical principles have not changed that I know of. Maybe so, but I think Einstein pretty much nailed it on physics and math.
But the math that I have seen during this election time have defied all the odds that I thought were fundamental. Example: People voting from two different addresses makes one vote? I guess the dead voting might be more of a science problem than a math problem, except if that dead person died in 1880. Then you can put it down as both, science and math. The theories regarding “probability” are far removed from what I believed; however, I admit I’m not proficient in these area as some are. Especially the inhabitants in rest homes.
Math laws regarding “chances” and “odds” are rather complex to me, but the Democrats have them down pat. If I were a Democrat, I would try my luck at cattle futures contracts.
Me? I won’t buy a ticket for a quilt raffle, if more than three people are buying tickets —- and my husband has to be one of the other two.
I gotta think some more about this because the Democratic math irregularities have shaken my world. I need something I can count on! Bring back Pythagoras and Archimedes, and throw in Einstein also.
“Hurry, Baby, we have to get out of here before the snow gets worse,” said Roger to Ashlyn as they went out the door. Sammy and I stood in the door watching them go. Ashlyn hurried along beside her “Haw-Hee.” Haw-Hee, that’s Granddad Roger. I said to Sammy, “There goes the second and fourth generation.”
The Bible talks about our effect to the third and fourth generation at which point we can only continue to influence through the influence we have passed on to the second and third generations. How blessed I am to be influenced by Godly ancestors; how blessed I am to see their influence passed on to precious ones I love!
Hear me rejoice as I review the snippets of my week-end with my four-year-old great-grand Ashlyn. “Grandma, can you put this on my doggie,” as she passes me the pink leash and white doggie. “Grandma, can I have some chocolate milk,” as she opens the refrigerator. “Grandma, can I play with your kindle,” as it is already opened in her hand. What child-like faith as she is always expecting that her answer will be “Yes.”
But it is not always “Yes”; she didn’t get an okay about watching TV when we went to bed, so she flipped out of my bed. In the semi-dark, I saw her go to a stack of blankets, get one and lay down on the treadmill. I waited quietly. After about five minutes (seemed so long), she loudly whispered, “Grandma, Grandma,” as her head lifted slowly above my mattress. I quietly reached out my hand to her, she took it and climbed back in bed. Sweet snuggles.
The highlights of my time with her go like this: “Grandma, know what?” “No, what, Baby?” “I love you,” she says. “Ashlyn, know what?” “No, what, Grandma?” “I love you,” I say. I see why Jesus wants us to become like a little child. “Jesus, know what?” “I love you,” I say. Listen carefully. Do you hear, “I love you too, my child.”
Cut and pasted from five years ago. One of my favorites. Ashlyn is growing up. Still has my heart.
As the ebb and flow of life
Brings me Oliver!
Picture is my real great-great grandson. Adorable, huh?
Written for Ronavan A weekly haiku challenge by Ronavan Writes
Sara, in luxurious comfort, was clothed in bubble wrap and serenaded by the crumpling of gift wrap. Why could Frank not understand! She was freezing in “stuff”. He loved her. He would give the world for her to be happy – with him.
Outdoors looked cold. It invited her to memories. The applauding, the cheering, the whistles. The feel of power as she spun on her toes. She was never cold on the ice. Her “being” was warmed from the glow of achievement.
“Want anything else, Darling?” he asked.
No, Frank was not the problem. Belonging to him was the problem.
Written for Friday Fictioneers 100 word challenge by Rochelle https://rochellewisoff.com/
PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson
I’ve told you before that I used to be active in the Democratic party. In my rummaging among old school materials I found these bits. So I’m sharing a bit from my past.
I’m not sure whether this picture of Jessie Jackson was that year but it was online for Tulsa Teachers Convention in 1975, so I guess it was picture near that time.
I achieved a bit of local notice because of my work and development of material for teaching Dolch Sight words. Thus, the reason for the letter and my presentation at a Teacher’s Convention in Tulsa. That was quite a big deal for me. When I moved from Claremore, I donated a lot of school material to a Christian School there. I guess that was where my work ended up.
This was in 1975, the year Jesse Jackson was main speaker. He was active in civil rights causes, but I do not think that was his purpose for being at the convention. As I remember it, he was adamant about black fathers taking a responsible role in the lives of their children. I didn’t know then it was such a big deal for me to share a minor spot with Jessie Jackson.
After these forty-five years, I must say I see nothing of the young man I admired on that day in 1975. So sorry he did not continue as I saw him that day. It seems money and fame are prone to drag a man down. I see him now as having joined the “blame gang” and encouraging the blacks in their victimhood. Maybe I am wrong, I don’t keep up much with his doings.
Well, I’m guessing you won’t find much of it in the army barracks!
Am I suggesting they don’t have a cultured side? Does that mean they don’t have a “feminine” side – they can’t be emotional, loving, tender, caring, forgiving, unselfish, patient, give themselves to the service of others?
Perhaps they – men – are the transition between God and women in all these ways. Perhaps women are loving, tender, caring, forgiving, unselfish, patient, give themselves to the service of others because they were created from the rib of man who was created in the likeness of God. Perhaps all those characteristics come first in the emotions of man. But man has had to delegate those “softer” attributes in order to have time for the macho role – power, like that which is needed to push my car out of the highway when my motor quits – authority, like that which is needed to command that the switch be pulled on the death row inmate – determination, like that which is demanded when the farmer has to plant his crop for the fourth time because it was washed out again – persistence, like that which is required to sit at the microscope for hours looking for a cure for Covid – violence, like that which makes him pull the trigger in behalf of his country.
To the Veterans (men and women) who have served to make America free, I thank you.
And back to my question. Do real men eat quiche? Probably if it looks enough like pizza!
“What you been up to, Pete?”
“Not so much ‘up to’ anything. More like ‘down to’. I’ve been sleeping on a couch in the city dump.”
“How did you get to this nice place?”
“Got a job.”
“Yeah. Never again will I say I’m ‘down in the dumps,’ – At least if the new guy can keep the jobs a’comin’. I hear a lot of places are going on lock down.”
“Yep. Can you tell me where that couch is?
Submitted for Friday Fictioneers 100 word challenge by https://rochellewisoff.com/ Mine is short today. About eighty words. I haven’t discovered how to count words on this block editor.
Picture also by rochelle.